Artist: Blue Scholars
Album: Blue Scholars
Song: Bruise Brothers
Typed by: jaysscholar@gmail.com
The blue is for the color of the collar of my mother
And my father plus the scholars that we be
The blue is for the nighttime moon, swinging tune
Of every bluesman singing what its like to not be free
I want to be the conduit moving the music among the masses
Hit the spot rock upon sight like medusa as the true surpass the wicked
Used to sneak in shows without a ticket
Till I slowly got familiar with the local promoters
Hoping to blow, focused on the open mic
Not claiming to be the dopest, I just want to be noticed
To find producers in the circuit to work with
For certain it was hurting at first fucking with studio virgins
To purge the wack, I download the upgraded version
Now performing our percussions
Constructed up by the Persian beatmaker extraordinaire
You talk about the journey but we're taking it there
Paying a fair, say it again said
The blue is for the color of the collar of my mother
And my father plus the scholars that we be
The blue is for the nighttime moon, swinging tune
Of every bluesman singing what its like to not be free
The blue is for the water and sky
In the middle of the fire I burn to find the light in the darkness
The blue is for the color of the bruise we use to be reminded
That the body isn't made to be timeless
The blue is for the ocean we cross to foreign lands
Where we work with our hands, and home is where we stand
Where the poetry swims, in the lunacy of moonshine light
Reflected right upon the surface of skin
Verses burst out the pen, like it hurt not to be written
You immature amateur writers are copy kittens
In the coffee shop kids are spitting individualistic
Petty bourgie pseudo revolutionary bullshit
Don't miss this, resistance is more than just a fist in a wristband
And incense, that won't make you free, fuck a bachelor's degree
I'd much rather defeat the evil thieves in my scenery
Seemingly detached, indeed as we proceed to see the heathen meet his match
And everything not giving up, we take it back
I bleed upon a track, my verse written in red
The blue is for the balance yes and everything I said, I said
The blue is for the color of the collar of my mother
And my father plus the scholars that we be
The blue is for the nighttime moon, swinging tune
Of every bluesman singing what its like to not be free
The blue is for the water and sky
In the middle of the fire I burn to find the light in the darkness
The blue is for the color of the bruise we use to be reminded
That the body isn't made to be timeless